“Please…” He shook his head in despair while his gaze followed Laney and Katarina up the stairway. “If I could just—”
Elizabeth placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, Kyle.”
Wendy closed the door behind them and followed as they hurried to the twentieth floor. At the rooftop door, Katarina burst out onto the rooftop, where a downward blast of air from the overhead chopper buffeted her, yanking at her hair and threatening to topple her in the harsh glare of the spotlight. For a moment it hovered in a deafening thud of rotor blades and engine noise, then dropped to a point just above them. A harness fell from the open door and an amplified man’s voice shouted for one of them to secure themselves in it for airlift.
“Katarina, you first,” Wendy shouted over the din. She helped the girl into the harness, then each of them stood back to watch as she was winched into the waiting helicopter, her body stiff, fingers spread in terror, and her face a mask of dread.
Behind them, another rolling wave of heat and smoke burst from the open rooftop door, so Laney dashed over and slammed it shut, shoulder against it while Wendy shouted for Elizabeth to be ready. Moments after Katarina was hauled aboard the chopper, the winch let out again and the harness dropped with a radio attached, swinging like a pendulum in and out of the spotlight until Wendy snatched it out of the air.
Flicking a switch on the radio, she barked out a few orders, then motioned Elizabeth over. “You’re next.”
Elizabeth ducked her head and scurried over, using her fingers to rake back the hair whipping her face and eyes. Squinting against the glare and the dust riding the hot air boiling up around them, she met Wendy’s gaze.
“What about you? What about Laney?”
Wendy lowered the radio and glanced behind her to where the two were hunched in the shadows against the blasts of hot air. “I’ll get Kyle up there first. Then Laney.”
From where she stood, Laney sent a determined look up to the helicopter, then yelled to Elizabeth. “Just go. We’ll be fine.”
With her heart in her mouth, Elizabeth stood with her features tight and her hands and knees trembling as Wendy adjusted and tightened the harness on her.
Wendy placed one hand on her shoulder. “Don’t look so worried. You’ll be fine.”
Steeling herself, Elizabeth took a ragged breath and gave one tiny nod. “I know.”
Twenty floors down she could see the lit-up windows of the surrounding buildings, the flash of red and blue from the rescue vehicles lighting up the streets while the headlights of tiny cars inched along the distant streets like toys. Once before she’d been on a building rooftop. That time she’d meant to jump. She’d meant to end her life. This time, she just wanted to live. She needed to see Holly again; to hold her in her arms and tell her how much she loved her. She needed to see Lance, to tell him she was sorry, that she’ll never defy him again, to tell him how she felt about him. So many people she loved. And yet, so much she’d left unsaid to them.
As the chopper rose higher and higher, she clung to the harness and closed her eyes until she felt the slack in the cable taken up and her feet lift.
“Stay safe. All of you,” she called back, but no one would have heard because they were swallowed up in the distance below while the yawning mouth of the chopper door loomed.
Clinging to the leather straps across her chest, Elizabeth sent up a tiny prayer, begging for all their lives, for the lives of anyone left in the building, begging God to let her see Holly just once, Please God, if not forever, then just once more.
For what felt like an eternity, she spun and twirled like a fish on the line. When the noise from the engine throbbed right next to her, she opened her eyes to find a man in military uniform leaning out of the helicopter with his hand out to her. She reached out, felt his hand grasp hers, and the jar of metal against her shins as he hauled her to the side of the chopper. She clambered inside door and flopped to the floor. Rolling to her back, she unclasped the harness with a groan of relief, and sat up. Inches from her was the door to the outside, where the distant ground below swayed this way and that like some kind of fairground ride, so she crabbed back on her butt, away from the open door.
“Where are the other girls? The three men?”
“We got them,” the man said. “They’re on the ground.”
But the helicopter rose and the rooftop swung out of view and she knew they were moving away.
“What about Wendy and Laney? You can’t leave them there.”
The airman gathered up the cable, preparing another harness drop. “Don’t worry, we’re going back. The fire’s caused an updraft on the east side of the building and we had to shift position. Hold on.”
Sure enough, as she scuttled over next to Katarina in the rear of the craft, clinging to handholds on the frame, she felt the chopper swerve, and bank around. Once again, she held her breath as the airman angled himself at the open doorway and spooled out the harness.
This time, amid the staccato of radio communication and the throb of the helicopter engine, it was Kyle who was winched to safety. He clambered aboard, but his face was gray, his breathing shallow. He lay on the floor of the chopper, sweat glistening on his forehead as he stared heavenward. Katarina scrambled to his side, clutching his hand in hers, stroking his brow and calling his name over and over.
For the fourth time, the harness was let out.
But a squawk from the airman’s radio cut through the throb of the engines. A man’s voice. Probably the pilot. “Hold on,folks, we’re not out of the woods here.”
“Why? What’s happening?” Elizabeth demanded.
The airman clinging to the side of the door leaned to look out as they lifted and pointed to the building below. “Who’s that?”
Elizabeth scooted forward, clinging to any handhold she could find, narrowing her eyes against the blast of hot air until she caught sight of Wendy still on the roof…
…and Gate Westrum with a handgun at her head.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
DAY THREE—9:16 PM—LANEY
They’d watched Kyle, the old guy, scramble into the open door of the helicopter and disappear. But as Wendy stood with her hand shielding her eyes and gazing up at the chopper, Laney glanced back just in time to see the rooftop door swing open. She was about to hurry over and help whoever they’d mistakenly left behind, when a form burst onto the roof and in a blinding sweep of the helicopter spotlight, she recognized Jerko.
The instant she saw him, she ducked back, hiding behind a boiling-hot air-vent next to her. She went to cry out, to warn Wendy, but in an instant Jerko drew his gun and lunged, grabbing Wendy and locking one arm around her throat, his gun to her head.
Laney ducked down and shrank back into the shadows.
What now?
Was it the same gun he’d had downstairs? The one he’d emptied on the door?
She couldn’t be certain.
As Jerko and Wendy stood locked together, watching the helicopter lift and bank around again, Jerko put his lips to Wendy’s ear and spoke.
Clearly furious, Wendy reluctantly put the radio to her lips, relaying the message.
Laney didn’t have to hear the words. He was negotiating. His life—or Wendy’s. Decision time. If Laney read it correctly, he was probably telling them he’d spare Wendy if they airlifted him to somewhere safe. He’d negotiate some deal where he’d be free to escape the police. At least that’s what she figured.
But she was damned if she’d let him get away with it. The memory of the callous way he’d killed Fatso and left his body crumpled in a heap in the Studio; the terrifying way he’d spoken to the old guy; the arrogant swagger as he selected his instruments of torture. Probably just as he’d done to the girl in the basement. Ripping out her fingernails with those pliers. How could anyone do that?
Hatred for all that evil boiled in her gut. Blinded by determination and rage, she burst from her hiding spot, head down, and rocketed into the back of him, shoulder-charging him until the three
of them stumbled forward and Wendy slipped from his grasp.
Barely maintaining his balance, Jerko spun around, leveling the gun at Laney now.
She stepped back, hands in the air. “Same gun, Jerko? Same one you ran out of bullets with downstairs?” she said. Then she gasped when the first shot whizzed past her ear.
Shock jarred her to her very bones. How stupid could she be?
But behind him, Wendy had leapt to her feet. With lightning speed, she twirled on one foot, delivering a roundhouse kick to the back of his head. Jerko stumbled sideways, firing off another wild round that pinged off the air vent, but stayed on his feet. Laney ducked and twisted in a full circle, this time rushing him while Wendy latched onto him, one arm around his neck, the other snatching for the gun. Together they clung to him, wrestling him this way and that until he swung around, shoulder-slamming Wendy into the corner of the air vent until she yelped in pain and let go.
A smug smile tweaked back his lips as he stepped wide, the gun swinging from Laney to her.
“Well played, my dear. You had us all fooled. Shame I never got to find out who put you up to this,” he said. “Unfortunately, you’ll never be able to tell me.”
He raised the gun, finger wrapping around the trigger, and aimed. But a shot rang out from the open doorway of the helicopter and Jerko stumbled back. He clapped a hand over the bloodied wound to his shoulder, and glared up at the helicopter through the hot swirling wind and gathering smoke, his face set in a mask of disbelief.
Wendy scurried across and yanked the gun from him grasping it in both hands as she pointed it at him.
“One move, you’re dead,” she shouted.
A bolt of determination filled his eyes. Cradling his wounded arm, he spun on the spot and ran for the rooftop door. Wendy fired off two shots, the first thudding into his upper arm, the second thudding into his back. He stopped short, as if caught in freeze-frame animation while a dark stain widened between his shoulders. For a moment, he remained rooted to the spot, standing rigidly in the doorway as if nothing had happened.
With her gun still on him, Wendy moved slowly towards him. “Put your hands in the air.”
He turned slowly, eyeing her with that same defiant determination, then collapsed in the doorway.
Wendy rushed over and knelt beside him, two fingers pressed to his neck. Slowly, she got to her feet and turned to Laney. “He’s dead.”
“What now?” Laney shouted as the helicopter descended once more. Her hair whipped her face and flew wild as she blinked against the dust and heat.
“Let’s go,” Wendy yelled. “The support crew can pick his body up and take him to the morgue.” As the helicopter approached, she motioned the harness down and secured it around Laney.
“Don’t let them drop me,” she said.
“They haven’t dropped anyone yet.” Wendy gave her shoulder a squeeze, then backed away and gave the signal.
Laney gasped and held her breath. Then grinned as she drew back and the city lights filled the night, winking and sparkling far below.
“Well. Holy. Shit,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTY
DAY THREE—10:59 PM—ELIZABETH
Elizabeth watched as the ground below loomed closer and closer. Everywhere was alive with flashing lights and rescue vehicles, all circled by a swelling crowd.
“They’ll take you to the hospital,” Wendy told her.
“I don’t need—” Elizabeth began
But Wendy cut her off. “It’s a precaution.”
The helicopter hovered over the heliport of a nearby building.
“We’re landing here in a couple of minutes,” Wendy said.
As the chopper angled around preparing to touch down, Elizabeth turned to her. “I need to ask you. How…?” She shook her head, wondering which question to ask first.
“I’m Special Agent Wendy O’Dell. The FBI recruited me because of my languages. And,” she said with a hint of a smile, “the martial arts kind of sealed the job for me. I was brought in here to bring down Gate Westrum’s people-smuggling racket. And it’s not just this operation. There are others.”
“You mean he has other businesses?”
“He’s been importing women for the past two years. We’d almost gotten enough to bring down the whole network when Kyle here smuggled Katarina out. He hid her the only place he could think of—Sunny Springs.”
“Why did he use your name?”
She grinned. “That was my idea. That way we could trace her movements. We didn’t want her to disappear because we knew she’d be a valuable information source. Then Velma Stanford was shot dead. We weren’t sure initially who killed her. We think we know now.”
“You think it was Kyle, right?”
Katarina interrupted, her voice insistent. “Kyle would not hurt anyone. He is a good man.”
Elizabeth and Wendy shared a troubled look. It wasn’t something they were prepared to debate in front of Katarina.
Instead, Laney filled the silence, saying, “Yeah, real good. He tried to kill me.”
“He would never do that. He saved you,” Katarina said. “He saved all the women there—all my friends. They would be dead if it weren’t for him.” She sent a glance of appeal across the group of women. Finding no support, she dropped her attention back to the man in question.
Kyle’s face squeezed in pain and his eyes opened on her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Hush,” Katarina said, stroking his face. She bent her head and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, holding it tenderly until he closed his eyes again.
“I think it’s better left to the police,” Elizabeth told Laney. “They’ll decide who did what.”
“So, how come you ended up here?” Laney asked Elizabeth angrily.
“I came looking for you. If someone had told me your aunt had been available, Kimmy would never have gone into Sunny Springs. She’d have been there. None of this would have happened.”
For a second, Laney looked furious but lost for words. She swiped a knuckle under her nose and looked away. “Okay, so I guess that’s it. We all nearly get killed, and for what?”
“A lot of women were saved because of you,” Elizabeth told her.
Begrudgingly, she met Elizabeth’s gaze again. “What’ll happen to Katarina now?”
“I guess she’ll be sent home, back to Bosnia,” Elizabeth said.
Laney’s mouth dropped open. “What? She can’t stay? Why not?”
Wendy answered, her voice firm. “She was brought here illegally. Besides, she’ll want to be with her own family.”
The pain in Katarina’s heart reflected in her face. She folded over Kyle, cupping his face in her hands. “With all my heart I want to stay.”
He placed a gentle hand over hers. “Oh, my sweet girl. You have to go home, be with your family. I love you more than you’ll ever know, but you were never meant to be here. I’m sorry.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she turned to Wendy. “Will I be charged by the police?”
“I doubt it,” said Wendy. “It was through no fault of yours. And besides, I think you’ve been through enough.”
As the helicopter touched down, a saddened gaze ran between each of the women; each knowing their experiences over the past days had brought them close to death, and some closer to each other. But each knowing that in the end, they would part.
“Okay, ladies,” the chopper pilot said as the rotors wound down and the background din faded. “We’ve got paramedics coming in for the wounded. Watch your step as you get out.”
Elizabeth drew back and watched two paramedics position a gurney at the open door of the helicopter, watched as Kyle was shifted onto it. As they wheeled him away, Katarina got out. Before disappearing, she paused and turned to Elizabeth. “Thank you. For everything.”
When she’d gone, Laney cut Elizabeth an accusing glance. “Yeah, thanks for everything,” she muttered sourly, and followed.
“Laney! I just…” she called after her. But Laney was gone without a backward glance.
“Sometimes, you can’t please ’em all,” Wendy told her.
The encounter had left Elizabeth feeling as though a heavy stone had settled in her chest. After all she’d done, everything she’d gone through, she hadn’t once considered how Laney felt. “Yeah, but sometimes you have to try.”
Elizabeth followed, scooting over to the doorway on her butt to where she looked out into the glaring lights. Out there amid a flurry of rescuers and paramedics, she spotted a familiar form waiting for her. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t contain the smile that broke across her face.
As the airman took her hand and assisted her from the doorway, Delaney ducked his head and hurried over. Just as her stockinged feet touched the ground, his arm circled her waist and he drew her in.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He hurriedly escorted her back to the circle of rescuers awaiting casualties. As they stood on the fringe, watching Wendy alight from the helicopter, Elizabeth said, “And there she is…our missing Wendy O’Dell. And she’s an FBI special agent. Who knew?” she asked Delaney, then she lifted her eyes to him, only to find him with his mouth open, eyes searching the air for an answer.
“You knew,” she said and went to push him away. “You knew she was an FBI agent the whole time.”
“What was I supposed to tell you?”
“Well…that you knew?” she said, aghast, before the reality of his position hit her. “Then again, I guess you couldn’t. Because you’re a cop, right. I had to go and find out myself.”
“Do you know that you are the most… infuriating…frustrating…hard-headed… woman I’ve ever known? Do you?”
For a moment she froze in shock, until he pulled her in once more and his arms tightened around her.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said and pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head, held her close for a moment, then released her. As if embarrassed by the display of emotion, he shook it away and stepped back to look her over with his eyebrows up.
[Elizabeth McClaine 03.0] A Stolen Woman Page 29
